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A walk with a friend took us to this Christmas Eve sunrise on Lake Ontario. I can sense the curve of the earth
here, and the
continent beyond. I've explored the trails, beaches, forests and Bluffs since childhood. My daughters grew and
played here too.

I like Canadian stories, and remember them in my studio. Only music invades the awesome gift of detachment
there, and I translate
through watercolour and acrylic. Alternately, I spread my backpack paint paraphernalia on cottage decks, far
off islands, over moss and
ground, beach, rocks, campsites or on classroom tables whenever I can buy myself another package of
professional technique and
wisdom.

In watercolour, my elusive holy grail of media, I make mistakes and messes, have exploited saltwater, spit and
campfire charcoal,
moonlight, candles, flashlight, and even scrubbed sheets of 140 lb cold press in the lake to get things right.
I remain eternally
grateful for all tricks, tips and secrets thrown my way.

I honour artists whose work and language move me, thinkers whose spirits use poetry and faith, children who
believe I can paint
anything, friends who show me their own wild spaces, canny left-brainers who help with computer responsibility,
and those who are
curious enough to visit or even buy a small piece of me on stained paper.

Deborah has developed six portraits for The Children's Book Bank and her works
have been displayed as per Scarborough councillor's request at City Hall. Her greeting cards have sold at
venues like The Papery in Yorkville, in the Arctic, and at professional functions. Deborah's work hangs in
private collections and offices.